Monotony
by Greyfirestorm
Summary: A short story about a man. A man starring in many a game, and many a fanfic, but never truly acknowledged. A man of few words and with a job like any other job. At least he thinks so.  "Ready? GO!"


**A/N: Hey there FF! So it's been, what, four years since my last update? I just popped in to read up on some of my favourite stories, as I sometimes do, when I got the bright idea of reading my old fanfics! Gee, what a curious mind I had when I was 12…**

**Seriously, I wanted to hit myself while reading those. But then I looked at the reviews and WOW! There are some really nice people here, actually giving constructive criticism and praise to a nerdy 12-year old with a passion for SSB games… And so, after the longest Author Note of all time, here's a little something I scribbled up at 6 AM just as a little thank you-note to all you beautiful people out there.**

Monotony

-Greyfirestorm-

I wake up at seven AM, every day of the week, Monday through Friday.

I walk out the door at seven-thirty AM, every day of the week.

I walk down the same street, into the same coffee shop, and pay the same amount, every day of the week.

I take the metro to work, every day of the week.

What I work with? Oh, it's just a job, like any other.

I get off at the Main Station and clock in at eight AM, every day of the week. An elderly man with a birthmark on his forehead mans the security checkpoint I need to pass through, every day of the week.

That is my morning routine.

Some people are afraid of routine. They spice up their everyday with trips abroad, hobbies, going out, doing sports or attending meetings. I don't. I enjoy the monotony that routine brings with it.

It can make everything seem normal, just a part of my day, like toasting my breakfast, drinking my morning cup of black coffee on my way to the metro and giving the same apologetic smile to the guard as I forget to take the lone quarter out of the backpocket on my jeans, as I do every Wednesday.

He sighs, runs me over with the handheld scanner, gives me the same condescending look that I get every Wednesday, and waves me through. I pick up my coat, and move on into the employee lounge. Like I do every day of the week.

I don't carry anything but my coat with me to work. There's really no need for anything else in my profession.

Words spoken often enough don't need a script, and my job has kept me repeating myself for years. Every day of the week.

Do I get bored with it?

Perhaps.

Will I quit?

I have never seen a reason why.

The pay is nice. I get by. There could be worse places to work, I bet.

I watch, every day, as they go through their own routine. Make the crowd love them, hate them, cringe with fear and burst with laughter. Make them chant and sing, cry and gasp. Every day, something new. Every day of the week. It's their routine, but none would call that monotony.

Enthusiasm is something I have learned to fake. It's part of the job, a required skill, just like an engineer must know to properly handle his tools.

I've never met them, in person. Some might call it strange, I just don't see why I should.

It's a job, like anything else, they're merely part of it. I just do my thing, say my part, and wait for the next match. It's all routine, and something I can live with.

I don't get a lot of attention, which is fine by me. People seem to take me for granted, and I go with it. I can do my job, and get home in time for the news without someone wanting to stop me on the street and have a chat. That's a luxury that they certainly don't have.

At home, I might read a book, play some solitaire, pet the cat, and then go to bed at six, like I do every day of the week.

Some would call it boring. Others would blame it on a need to cope from the stress of watching people getting beat to pulps every day, just to get up and do it again.

For me, it's just a job, like every other. But hey, what did you expect from a guy that can yell the same words for thirteen years without pause?

I'm the Announcer. It's what I do.

"**TIME!"**

**So yeah, I spent nearly an hour on this, forty-eight minutes to be exact. You guys tell me what you think, was it horrible, amazing, a good late-night read? I'd like some kind of response. I really just leapt right into this, wanted to show you awesome people out there that I can write something better than pre-teen wannabe epics. I'm a little curious as to how the spacing turned out, as I don't have much experience with how things look when moved from Word to the web, but meh, you people give me a shout if I should try to improve it.**

**-Greyfirestorm**


End file.
